


Best. Christmas. Ever

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Series: 25 days of ficmas [19]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, pregnancy reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:31:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader finds out that she is pregnant and announces it to her husband on Christmas morning.





	Best. Christmas. Ever

You felt like an excited child, creeping around before dawn on Christmas day. You’d already been lying awake in bed for over an hour and had had enough. Of course, you were excited for Christmas but this year was different. You’d been looking forward to today all week but now suddenly felt a little nervous. However, all it took was one look at the gorgeous man by your side to quell your nerves.

Clint Barton. Your partner. Your husband. The ridiculous man who you loved with every fibre of your being. He chest rose and fell steadily with his breathing. His hair hung messily over his face, all soft and fluffy without a tub’s worth of hair gel to hold it into place. The slight stubble on his face that was meant to make him look “roguish” but just made him look like a little bit of a drunken slob. An adorable one, at any rate, though.

Slowly swinging your legs out from beneath the cover, you shimmied out from his grip, immediately missing the feeling of his strong arms holding you against him. It was almost enough to convince you to go back to bed but you had other things to prepare. You grabbed your dressing gown and tied it tightly around your waist, sparing him a final glance before silently slipping out the room.

As you crept down the staircase, definitely feeling like a child now, you carefully jumped over the squeaky step and headed for the kitchen to make breakfast. To anyone else, your combination of chocolate spaghetti and salmon and cream cheese on toasted bagels might seem a little bit odd. They might be right but it was tradition of yours and Clint’s to have weird comfort foods on Christmas morning and nothing ticked those boxes more than this.

When they were almost ready you put the coffee on, knowing that the smell would wake Clint in an instant. It was more effective than any kind of alarm. In fact, the man never moved as fast as when he could smell his Christmas coffee. Literally ten seconds later, you heard his heavy footsteps crashing down the stairs and, not quite ready for him yet, shouted up, “Wait one minute!”

His footsteps fell silent as he hovered on the middle step. It squeaked as he shifted his weight anxiously from foot to foot, Clint called, “Baby, is everything okay?”

“Yep! I just need a second to sort out your present!”

“I know I joked about you being naked under the tree with nothing but a pot of coffee but I swear to god if you actually are then I’m going to have you right there on the floor.”

“Good thing I put the central heating on last night.”

“Babe, you’re killing me…”

Carrying the tray of goodies in to the living room, you smirked to yourself as Clint literally poked his head between the rungs of the banister to follow the smell of chocolate and festive coffee. You set the tray on the table and opened the cupboard, rummaging around to find the surprise. When your hand closed around the ribbon, you shouted back, “I’m kidding, Barton. I assure you that I am not lying naked under the tree.”

“Aww, spoilsport.” You heard the steps creaking as he sat down to sulk and rolled your eyes at the child that was your husband. “You’re no fun.”

“Say that again and I’ll drink this Christmas blend all myself.” His sharp intake of breath was no surprise; Clint had been saving this blend all year, ever since Tony gave it to him as a birthday present back in January. It was a very expensive combination of winter berries, dark cocoa and spices made from the finest ingredients in the world and blended specifically for Clint’s tastes.

To even suggest that you would do something so evil had him grovelling in seconds. “I take it all back. You’re amazing. I love you so much. Please don’t drink my coffee.”

“That’s what I thought you said.” Straightening the bow, you stood in front of the Christmas tree and called, “Okay! Your present is ready. Come on down, honey.”

Clint literally vaulted over the banister and slid into the living room, like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. His eyes widened in shock at the sight of you standing there with a huge purple bow around your stomach. Slowly - nervously - he took a step forward and placed his hands on your hips, tugging at the ribbon tied about your middle. “Are you… Are we…?”

Hope blazed from Clint’s face, shadowed by the fact that life had taken too much from him already. He was scared to accept that this could possibly be true just in case it was ripped from beneath him like everything else good in his life. His fingers were trembling against your skin as he pulled you closer, his voice so quiet that it was almost impossible to hear. “Y/N?”

You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a passionate kiss, running your fingers through his messy hair. He dug his fingers into your hips, pressing tightly against you. Only when he backed you up against the tree did you push him away, laughing at all the pine needles that were now tangled in your hair.

Resting your hand gently on his cheek, you ran your thumb along the line of a faint scar and whispered, “You’re gonna be a father.”

“A baby?” he breathed, tears forming in his eyes.

“No, of a puppy. Yes, of a baby, you beautiful, wonderful idiot! Our baby. Merry Christmas, Clint.”

“Best. Christmas. Ever.”


End file.
